The Games We Play
by literaryobsession
Summary: "Only one will come out, Clove, make sure that it's you." Clove was known for being the girl who never misses in the 74th Hunger Games but they don't know the human behind the mask she wears. This is the story she purposely hid from prying eyes of the Capitol. The story no one but Cato knows. (Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.)
1. The Child and The Victor

**Hi, everyone! I have been obsessed with Clato for a while now and this is my attempt on their story before and during the Hunger Games. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! Read and review! **

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

**The Child and The Victor**

I rubbed the sore spot in my left cheek, it stung like crazy and it was getting uncomfortable now. I am not the one to complain about bruises or injuries ever since I became a trainee for the Training Center, I had been expected to keep a strong stance even though I'm hurting inside. However when I'm alone, I tend to admit to myself that I can't bear every single day of the vigorous training that my trainer, Calla, was putting me through. I do it inside my room mostly or even outside, when I'm away from prying eyes. People here in District Two expect more from me than they did with other teenagers, I was the only daughter of one of the District Victors, Magdalena. She was the pride and joy of District Two when she came home, her Games had been one of the bloodiest. So basically, they expected the same kind of ruthlessness from me, her daughter.

Although I like being known as the Victor's daughter, the pressure was slowly sinking in. I turned sixteen just recently and people expect me to be in the Games this year since my mother won her Games when she too reached this magical age. So I put up a mask, around everyone including my mother, and became just like her in their eyes. I was trained, by my mother then by Calla, with knife-throwing and speed. Since I'm unusually small for my size (again, like my mother), the trainers thought I would do better to be stealthy and quick on my feet. I didn't need to be powerful if I'm fast. When I reached their expectations, they raised the bar even higher. Now, they need me to be hard to break and never shed a tear.

How will they do that you ask? Unlimited fighting against trainees, of course.

Earlier this day, Calla had the bigger and older trainees face our group, the sixteen years olds. I had beaten a few and tried to keep up with some. They were annoyed at my speed but one of them, the blonde they call Cato, managed to get a hold of me even before I could move. He was one of the seventeen year olds and the master of spears and swords. Without his weapons, however, he was still deadly. Cato, big and burly, stood at 6 feet and needed nothing but the pure strength packed in his thick arms. He smirked when he managed to bring me down, then moved on to join in with the laughter of his friends.

I bet they were talking about my greatest weaknesses, my height and weakness with hand to hand combat.

When the training stopped, Calla had scolded me for not thinking quick, she threatened to tell my mother about my recent downfall. I cringed at this, Magdalena the Victor was known for her anger issues - a trait that fortunately, I didn't inherit.

"Clover." A voice came behind me and I scoffed, realizing who it was. I turned my head towards the girls' bathroom door and found Cato leaning on the doorway with a triumphant grin on his face. "Oh, someone made a bruise on the Victor's daughter's face." He teased, giving off a laugh. I narrowed my eyes at him as a reply, Cato rolled his eyes at this, "Rich kids aren't normally the strongest ones out of the bunch." I stared at him, my glare now softening, what did he mean by that?

He lifted his tall from the doorway and looked at me, "See you tomorrow, little Clover." Cato ran his fingers through his messy blonde hair before he left.

Though I was still a little irritated by his comment about me, I couldn't help but wonder what he meant by it. Aside from his name, age and expertise, I don't quite know who Cato is outside the Training Center. Although I made a conclusion that he is well-off because of his muscular stature. I shrugged the thoughts out of my head and walked out of the girl's bathroom.

The moment I stepped inside the first floor of the Career Center, all eyes were on me - most of them were taunting, others were of loathing.

Many of the trainees here are jealous of me one way or another. I know because they let me feel so. Sometimes because of my supposedly easy life and other times because I was rumored to be the Head Trainer's favorite. Was it my fault that I was a Victor's daughter? Or that Ram didn't have discipline problems with me? What the hell is their problem?

I also thought it was stupid; who would want a life like this where you don't have any choice? My life was planned from the start. I was raised to kill or be killed. There was no way out.

My vigor to train each day was not to live up to my mother's expectations or to the other people's but to be able to live my life the way I wanted it to be after I survive my own Games. So this year, I'm going in and hopefully, I'm going to receive my own life before the same year ends.

"Hey Calla, I'm going home early." I shouted to my trainer once I reached the front door, I didn't even wait for her reply. The atmosphere outside was refreshing compared to where I trained, which smells of blood and sweat. District Two is probably one of the richest districts in Panem; right after District One, I thought. Although unlike District One, Two is more quaint like the a town in a kingdom, the kind you see in the old books. Houses, pathways and even benches were made of sturdy blocks of rocks, our District's livelihood. It was untouched by the technology in the Capitol; District Two is simple by sight yet different by nature.

From first glance, people here are rather simple-minded like that woman passing by with her little baby in her arms. You'd think she doesn't know a thing about the Games but when you cross her way, you'd just find out that she knows a thing or two about beheading someone because she went through training. Every kid in Two goes to training by the time they reach ten and when they're not picked to be in the Games, they are either: turned to Trainers; turned to Peacekeepers; or allowed to live their own lives.

Quietly, I follow my usual way to the Victor's Village. I kept my head down, my hands tucked in my baggy pants and my dark hair covering my face. Socializing was not allowed in my mother's book - she says having friends will make you soft and then turning you to a weaker version of yourself because you 'feel'. I have a nagging feeling that I'm missing out so much of my childhood but the thought of being punished would almost always make me think otherwise. Basically, I had no social life which even here in the district is weird for a sixteen year old.

My thoughts stopped running when I caught a glimpse of my mother conversing with Enobaria, our neighbor and the Victor of the 64th Hunger Games.

"Clove, my darling." My mother cooed, a sickeningly sweet smile crosses her features. "Training ended early today," There was a dangerous glint in her eyes, she knew I skipped an hour of training. "Enobaria just got home from the Capitol, she's telling me how excited she was of mentoring this year." My mother was replaced by Enobaria as a mentor when the latter became the recent Victor.

Turning my eyes on Enobaria, I smiled weakly, unable to give her a genuine one because of who she was and what she looked like. I don't think anyone can be truly happy when you're around someone who has altered her teeth after her infamous way of winning. "How is training, Clove?" Enobaria asked, flashing her gold fangs at me. I shuddered unconsciously at it.

"Fine." I said then tilted my head to the side to hide the bruise on my cheek. "Not much competition there." That part was true, I had no competition back in the Center. My aim was simply unattainable by someone who has just started throwing knives when they turned ten.

Not wanting to be pushed away from the conversation, my mother spoke with pride dripping in her voice, "My Clove will be a Victor." She said that almost always whenever she's speaking with her fellow Victors. Her hands found their way on my shoulder and made me face Enobaria. I kept my eyes away from the woman as the two Victors conversed, beguiling one another about the Games they won. I don't listen, Hunger Games meant nothing but freedom to me, in two ways. Dying and winning gets me away from my mother and her ideas. Unlike me, Magdalena thinks very highly of the Capitol. It was disgusting.

When I managed to get away from them, I entered our house and crept up to my room. This house had three occupants, unlike the others which housed only the Victors themselves. My grandmother was the third one but she is hardly alive. She sits by her bedroom window, only leaving when she's hungry or needed to do something. She's gone completely blank ever since my mother won her Games, I had no idea why. There are times, however, that she'd snap out of her trance and talk to me. Whenever she would, she'd tell me all about the family she had and lost, how Magdalena was the only family she had and how I look very much like one of her dead daughters.

I like my grandmother. She's the only one in District Two I genuinely care about. Somehow, I know she genuinely cares for me too. In her own way.

I threw myself on my unmade bed and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath as though trying to compose myself. I scrambled up and stood on top of my bed, reached out and pulled the knife buried deep in the ceiling. When I managed to pull it out, my eyes watched it slowly. It was my first training knife, my mother gave it to me on my sixth birthday. It had a gold handle with my name embossed on it and a sharp curved blade. This knife was my first play thing. People thought it was twisted when my six year old self told them but to me, it was normal.

This knife and what it gave me will be my ticket to my success.

However, my reverie ended when I heard my mother's voice calling me. Out of instinct, I jumped out of my bed and bolt out of my room without another thought. When she calls me, I come immediately. I never make her wait, it wasn't allowed.

My mother was by the last step of the staircase, her eyes in narrow slits. She's upset by something, so I carefully descend down and hid my arms behind me.

"Calla came over." Magdalena spoke silently, "Interesting turn-out, hm my Clover?" I stopped right in front of her and hung my head in shame. "Your arm." She held out a hand and reluctantly, I place my right arm over it. Her free hand pushed my long sleeves back and revealed the long raw cuts on my skin. The cuts was a tally of my mistakes and with every one mistake I make, Magdalena will cut me. "My darling, you will never be a Victor when you don't win. Hunger Games is," She pulled out her knife from her belt, "A survival of the fittest. You will never win by making mistakes." With one quick swipe, I felt pain but struggled to keep my face as neutral as possible.

Showing of vulnerability will earn me another, over the first one. It will be deeper, much more painful.

Now I was more determined than ever. I will have to be in the Games this year. I have to get away from my life. The 74th Hunger Games is mine. No one will get in my way.


	2. The Brawl

**Thanks for those who reviewed and followed the story. Also to those who put this story in their favorites. :D Here is the next chappie! Read and review please!**

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

**The Brawl**

For a few days, I kept myself busy with training. Even though my arms sting with my latest mistakes, I kept on going. Calla didn't ask me to train with the older trainees anymore because they were busy impressing the Trainers to get a spot in the Games. A month to go before the Reaping. So they left me alone for the time being. I'm much happier with that.

"Hey Clove."

I didn't turn away from my target, I hoped the voice will go away if I decide to ignore it. With a precision, I hit my mark but it wasn't enough. Nothing is ever enough for me now. I felt a presence behind me and I piped up finally, "What the hell is it, Rockwood?"

"I just wanted to ask," The boy chuckled which made me turn my head at him. Benjamin Rockwood was one of the seventeen year olds I beat the other day. By the looks of his face, he was playing around. As if on cue, I heard his friends laugh behind him. "Did you do something to your tits? They look bigger up close."

A few minutes after, Benjamin Rockwood found himself with a deep slash on his leg. Everyone in the Center turned their eyes to his agony then at me. I conjured a sweet smile at his crouched and bloodied form on the floor, "Did you do something to yourself? You look even more pathetic up close." After that, I wiped his blood on one of the training knives to my shirt. None of the trainers moved, fighting was allowed inside the Center, I just saw the smug smiles on their faces. They were proud they taught me well.

His friends ran to his aid, I saw Cato walking with a big grin on his face. He went past the huddled group and paid no attention to Benjamin but kept his blue eyes on me, "Nice job, little girl." Cato chuckled when I raised my eyebrow, "Apparently, you are not weak." Then, we both turned away from each other.

The news of my attack on Benjamin spread throughout the District like wild fire. Suddenly no one sent me taunting looks, no one even looked at me while I was walking at home. It registered in their poorly running minds that I, Clove Holt, can fight. It isn't as though I haven't had fights before, it was just the first time I gave a critical blow on anybody. Oh yes, Benjamin Rockwood is currently hospitalized now. The thought made me smirk.

"There she is!"

"Nice work today, princess."

"Brilliant work today, Clove."

Brutus, Enobaria and Magdalena, respectively, met me by the entrance of the Victor's Village. There were traces of laughter in their faces. When I came close to them, Brutus, the big man, threw an arm over me and laughed aloud. "No boy would ever try and break your heart. I'm sure of it." He said in between his laughter, "Quite a girl you got here, Magdalena."

There was a sudden surge of pride when my mother gave me a smile. No matter how I try to deny it, Magdalena's praises were golden to me because they rarely come by. "Of course." Magdalena nodded, "She'll do well."

"Are you volunteering this year, Clove?" Brutus asked, when he was done laughing.

Enobaria looked a bit unsure, "The girl's sixteen, Brutus. She'll go when she's older." She probably wanted to add my height but thought better of it. However, whatever she said was true. The trainers usually pick the older trainees to give them permission to volunteer, so as not to cause riot at the Reaping. There are a few times when they do pick someone young, like me.

"So what? We got a winner here. She'll be the perfect Victor." I liked Brutus too, I guess. When he's not trying to pick a fight or off killing people, he seems very nice. "Go and impress Ram," The Head Trainer, "He'll know what to do with you once he sees your killer skills." His words, though a bit shallow, made me think.

I finally had a ticket away from this place.

Armed with my sudden excitement, I hardly slept a wink last night and got up early in the morning. I prepared myself for battle, slipping on my vest and filing the knives I accumulated throughout my training under Magdalena in the knife pack. The day seemed to know my mood because the weather was bright and happy; my grandmother was even in the kitchen and the mouth-watering smell of her waffles filled our house.

"Good morning, Clove." The old woman looked up from her pan, "Do you want some waffles?" She didn't wait from my response because she went forward and piled up about three waffles on my plate. I followed her movements with my eyes while I ate. "You're early today," She spoke again, happiness ringing in her voice.

"Oh, I'm going training again today, grandma." I answered then took a big bite from the waffle.

Grandmother looked at me when she finished cooking, there were dozens of waffles on the plate which she placed on the dining table. "Good luck today, darling." She reached out and gave me a gentle pat on the head. When our eyes met, Grandmother's mint green eyes went unfocused for a moment before she stood up and left the room silently. Even though I don't follow her, I can see where she'd be heading and I wondered silently why she had episodes like that. I couldn't ask questions though; Grandmother wouldn't be sane or long enough to answer me and Magdalena does not allow questions.

Thinking about my life here, I wouldn't say I had a terrible childhood. My mother provided things for me, those that I need and those that I don't. I was never hungry in my life, unlike a handful of children here in District Two or in the other Districts. I also never had to work a day in my life, the only sweat and blood I shed were for training. Magdalena's motherhood, however, stopped there. She wasn't the 'motherly' type. Being raised by her, I didn't get kisses and hugs nor did I ever had my mother tell me bedtime stories.

It's not like I wanted them. I like being left alone. I like being treated like an adult and being independent. It's just... I tend to wonder, you know. What if she was like my grandmother who gave me pats in the head? What if she was the loving type? Would I have turn out the way I am now?

By the time I finish my waffle, I pushed away the distractions in my head. I don't need to think about these now, I have a spot to secure.

Cato Byrnes was already inside the Career Center when I arrived. He was examining his sword not far from my station, then he took out a cloth from his pocket and began polishing the already shining blade. He was concentrating on this alone and while he was doing that, I was watching him intently. I can recognize that look in his eyes, he had the same love for that long sword like I had with my set of knives. Although he trained with spears as well, I wouldn't say he liked it more.

"Clove," Calla's voice broke my thoughts, making both me and Cato acknowledge her presence behind me. "Today's the Tournament, remember?" Oh God, how can I forget? Weeks before the official Reaping, our Career Center, together with the other three Centers in the district, hold the annual tournament which included the potential tributes. The tournament were separated into two: the Male Division; and the Female Division. The trainees will all fight until one wins. The two winners will then get the permission of the District Head Trainer to volunteer. This way, in the Reaping, we won't have to have a brawl over who gets to volunteer for the spot in the Games.

I shook my head, "I didn't forget."

"Are you going to be watching?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. It would be very peculiar for me to watch, I never watch these Tournaments in the previous years.

"I thought I would, why?" It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

Cato came over, a big grin on his face, "Oh, you heard I'm going to compete, didn't you? You're going to support me?" He gave off a loud laugh, "How very sweet of you, little Clover."

"Shut up, you egomaniac. I don't need to watch you to know that you wouldn't stand a chance against the others. You're all brawns and no brains." I scoffed, "I can beat you with my eyes closed."

"Fat chance," He only smirked at me. Oh, you'll see. I'll be happy to wipe off that nasty grin on your face when I am about to slit your throat. "You seem to be forgetting what I did to you the other day. You know, when I beat you up? Not so tough now, huh?" Cato laughed once more. He turned around and marched away. I watch his retreating back with irritation. Slowly, I withdrew a knife from the knife pack I had in my hand. I dropped the pack down and ran towards Cato.

When I caught up with him, I grabbed a fistful of hair by the hand and pressed my knife in his throat. I pulled him down until my lips were pressed near his ear. "I can kill you anytime I want, Cato. Don't be sure I can't because I will." I whispered.

His face went from a momentary surprise to amusement, "Real cute, Clove." Cato raised his hand and grabbed mine, which had the knife threatening to cut his throat. His grip was steel tight and I can feel him twist my wrist, I don't let go. Even though I know he was going to injure my knife hand, I continue to press my knife in his neck. My eyes watched in contentment as a drop of blood rolled down the whiteness of his throat.

What I didn't expect was what he did next. Cato moved quickly, he removed my grip on his hair and twisted it around together with my hand with a knife. He held them both firmly behind me, a smile on his lips. "You don't know when to quit, do you?" He had his lips near my ear and unconsciously, I shivered when his breath made contact with my skin. Cato's hand gripped my wrist tightly making me drop my knife. He then threw me on the floor and laughed softly. "Two points."

I was on all fours, my eyes searching for my knife. When I saw it was inches away Cato, I decided to think of a way to grab it without him stopping me. Finally, I looked up at him. His eyes were on me, watching my every move with a calculating gaze. "Give it up, Clover." He shook his head, "You won't win against me."

"Fine, you win." I spoke with a small voice. That caught him by surprise. He didn't expect me to actually surrender. Cato gave out a sigh then stretched his long arms, he turned his back on me and started to walk away. I reached out for my knife, looked up from my position on the floor then with careful precision, made my blade whiz past Cato. It made contact with just inches from him, enough to make a tear on his pants and give him a deep wound in his leg. The big blond groaned in pain as my knife buried itself on the wall, "Gotcha."

I watched as Cato knelt, he clutched his leg with his hands to stop the bleeding before turning his blue eyes on me. One dangerous glint in his eyes made me stand up and rush towards my knife pack for defense but he had already caught the collar of my shirt. With his bloodied hand, Cato turned me around and wrapped his threateningly big hands around my neck and slamming me into the wall. The impact made me lose my breath and his grip was slowly taking my life away.

It was a good thing, I thought as my vision was slowly diminishing from the lack of oxygen, that someone decided to stop the fight.

"Hold it right there, Byrnes!"


	3. The Tributes

**Chapter 3:**

**The Tributes**

Light was seeping through my closed eyelids, voices were murmuring excitedly around me and something smelled of medicine and dying flowers. Slowly, I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of four familiar faces in the infirmary. Head Trainer Ram was by the door, talking to two trainers, Calla and Blank - the latter was Cato's trainer. Cato looked uncomfortable on his seat by my bed, his eyes glued on the wall clock. I sat up, gathering all the attention. "Where the hell am I?"

"How are you feeling, Clove?" Ram asked me with a small smile on his face.

"Like shit. Where the hell am I?" I repeated my question but nobody answered. I saw Calla and Blank's faces wearing similar smug grins. I wondered why they looked so happy, so I asked, "Why are you two grinning like insane clowns? What's up?"

"I've been asking them the same question." Cato grumbled. He looked pissed, "They wouldn't tell me unless you're awake." He turned his attention to the two trainers, "Are you going to tell me what Spade told you guys?" Spade was the Head Trainer of the four Career Centers around District Two. He was famous for training three of the Victors: Lyme; Brutus; and Magdalena.

"Tournament is cancelled." Blank laughed, "Spade called it off."

Cato rose from his seat, in indignation. "Then what the hell are you two so happy about? Am I disqualified from the Tournament? Did Spade disqualify us for the Tournament?" The blond was clearly full of questions, I just waited for them to continue.

Calla answered, "No. Spade just thought it was irrelevant now. He decided to have you two as the tributes for District Two. He liked your little show well enough." Her eyes told me that it was Spade who stopped Cato from killing me. Was he also there to witness the whole thing? "He said he'd meet you two tomorrow to discuss the flaws in your fighting styles."

"Wait. What?" Maybe they gave me more morphling than I could handle, was I hallucinating? Did I hear them correctly? I'd be in this year's Games alongside Cato?

My surprise went along with me on my way back home and Magdalena watched me with sharp eyes when I entered our house. "You were supposed to be back an hour ago, Clover." She had a knife ready in her hand but when I told her the reason for my lateness, Magdalena actually smiled and returned the knife back to her belt and nodded as a response, "This is the only exception. Wonderful work, Clove." Her words made me smile as well and it didn't matter to me when she left me standing by the foyer, all that matters is that I'd be in the Capitol in few weeks time and away from the life I was leading.

A spot in the Games was so exclusive that not everyone can get in. In the other Districts, the Games were feared as though it was a death sentence but in One and Two, sometimes even Four, The Hunger Games was a chance for hope and eternal glory. A Victor is a hero, revered and respected. When you lose, your memory is shamed along with your family. When you lose, you are not good and strong enough. You are replaceable. I am good enough. I will be respected.

I intend to win.

Tomorrow morning, people suddenly knew my name. The cancellation of the Tournament caught attention and the two names, mine and Cato's, were suddenly overnight celebrities. People, young and old, called out my name as though I knew them. Those who didn't like me were the teenagers hoping to compete, I only smirked triumphantly at them. They don't matter to me, they never did.

When I reached the Center, Cato was waiting for me by the entrance. He looked up from his thoughts and I immediately went into defense mode. Cato's eyebrows met in confusion, "Jeez, Clove, I only wanted to talk." He shook his head, "I swear, you need a social life. You're so weird."

"What do you want?" I asked, already irritated.

"I want to talk to you, settle differences."

I sneered, "You? Cato Byrnes? Settle differences by talking? You're not fooling anyone, dumb ass. I can see through you."

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Cato frowned, "You think you know everyone. You think you're too good for all of us. You're a bitch." He towered over me, his blue eyes burning. "You're not that good, Clove. You're not going to win that Games alone. One way or another, you'll need my help. You'll plead for my help. You'll call out my name and I won't help you if you continue being like this."

"And you think I'd make an alliance with you? You're also in the Games, stupid. In the end, it'll all come down to us." I stood my ground, my green eyes meeting his.

"Who said you'd make it through the bloodbath without me? There are tributes bigger than you, they'd overpower you like I did."

I grabbed him by the collar, "I will never ask for your help, Cato. I swear, I will never ask for anything from you."

"Fine." He pulled my hand away from his shirt and scowled, "Arrogance kills, Clove Holt, bear that in mind." With that, Cato went inside the Center. I was angry at him, for saying all those nasty things about me. Whatever prank he's trying to fool, I won't fall for it. For all I know, he's already plotting my death in his head. I don't trust him.

With a huff, I pushed the door open. My eyes found Spade already there, his arms over his chest and his eyebrows knitted closely together. He was this sixty something Trainer with grey eyes and strong build. He didn't look like any old people I know, Spade was still strong and I bet he can take Cato down with one hand.

"You're late." Spade's eyes narrowed, "I don't have all day, Clove." I jogged and stand beside Cato but still kept a distance between us. "The fight yesterday was spectacular. Brute force against long-range attacks. I can only imagine what it would be like in the Arena." His anger melted and we, Cato and I, smiled widely. "However Cato, you can't ever let your guard down. You assumed that your enemy surrendered and the battle is over," That wiped off the smile on Cato's face.

Spade did the same to me, "You were beaten by strength. Powerless against bigger tributes. Work on your strength, Clove. you cannot depend on your throwing knives all the time." I've heard that from both Magdalena and Calla, they have been trying to tell me about my weakness and I don't need another person telling this to me again.

"We will be training on these points along with improving your set of skills. I will be inviting your mentors, Brutus and Enobaria," Both of whom were in the Capitol at the moment, "You will be discussing with them about strategies earlier. We will not wait until you get to the Capitol. We have less than four weeks." Career Districts will make sure that the odds were in our favor.

In those four weeks, the one of the Centers and in this case, this one, will be closed off to the other trainees and only open for us. We will have exclusive access to all stations and all weapons, and will be guided by the watchful eyes of the District Head Trainer, the Center's Head Trainer and our own trainers. Our training will be intense, there will be no room for failure.

I was looking forward those sessions but training with Cato seems like a drag. I don't even want to be in the same room as him.

"I want a separate session." Cato voiced out my thoughts. He still looked a bit pissed off, "I don't trust Clove."

"And you think I trust you?" I spat back.

Spade stared at us. "No. You two will train together." His words were law. I just don't get it. "You are a pair of winners. One will need the other to get through the final two. You two will have each other's backs while all the other tributes are still there. Work together to wipe out the field. Make sure that District Two will have a winner." That was Spade's plan. Cato and I will have to form an alliance, no matter if we don't want it, and stay together until the very end. By the final battle, District Two will have a winner either way. It was against me and Cato in the end.

We fired Spade with words of disagreement. We don't even trust each other now, what more when we're in the situation where we'd have to really kill each other off? Spade was deaf to our pleas, "It seems like we have to work on trust as well." He spoke, when we finally silenced down. We didn't say anything else so he finally left us.

"He's nuts."

"Incredibly insane."

Cato and I muttered almost consecutively when we were alone. I was uncomfortable by the sudden silence and it seemed he was too. Instead of filling the air with words, we move away to our separate stations and began training. "I don't like Spade's idea." Cato said loudly after an hour.

"He thinks he can boss us around." I grumbled, making a knife hit target.

"He actually can, you know." I heard Cato again, "He is the Head of all the Head Trainers." There was a sudden whoosh behind me, Cato has probably cut off all the dummies with his sword now. "That didn't make sense." He added softly.

I nearly smiled if not for the sudden alarm which rang in my head. I will never show any more weaknesses to Cato. "Alliances are stupid."

"Alliances with _you _are definitely stupid." He corrected.

"I'll cut you if it was still allowed." I hissed, remembering the rule about not harming your own district partner before the Reapings. I came to know this rule when one guy got his own partner fatally injured right before the Games, he was then punished and was not allowed to volunteer. That year, another Tournament was held. Now, all the trainees know that partners are forbidden to cause any physical harm to the other - it will decrease the chance of winning.

His chuckle rang in the empty room, "You have such an attitude."

"And what do you mean by that?" I demanded, finally turning my eyes on him. When I did, Cato was looking right at me.

"You're so confident about yourself. You think you can beat everyone with that throwing skill of yours. You think you're so good because you have a Victor parent." He repeated the words he said to me earlier, "You know for yourself that you're perfect. I just had to take that idea away from you. It was so much fun wounding your ego and seeing you doubt yourself."

"You think you know everything." I hissed angrily at him.

Cato shrugged, "I know enough to predict you." He laid his big burly form on the wall and lazily traced the deadly blade of his sword with a finger, "I know for a fact that in that Games, you will be the first one to kill off an ally, if you get one. I know that you won't get much sponsors because you're so sour and so unlikable. You're an alien to physical contact and if I touch you right now, you'd break my arm."

I couldn't take it, I marched towards him and tried to hit him with my fists as much as possible, "Shut the fuck up! You don't know anything about me, Cato! So stop trying to judge me!"

He stopped me and held my wrists, "Then form an alliance with me and stop being so stubborn."

"Why the hell should I do that? I'm not stupid!"

Cato looked at me, his gaze unwavering. "Because you know that even though we won't admit it, we need each other to win that crown." When I showed no sign of threat to him, he let my hands go, "So, what do you say, Clover?"


	4. The Alliance

**Chapter 4:**

**The Alliance**

The first week went and I was sure that Spade was trying to sabotage me. He had Blank teach me about hand-to-hand combat while Cato worked consistently with Calla with his speed and strategy; his training was definitely easier than mine. By Saturday, my muscles were aching. Although I tried to get up, my body did not allow me to. There was no training today but I knew I had to move. I have to get used to overworking my body even with bruises.

I haven't had this intense training ever since I had just started throwing knives.

Spade wasn't happy about my training but he was satisfied with the fact that we agreed to have an alliance. Cato was back to his arrogant and carefree self, he would call me 'little Clove' and sometimes even get chummy with Spade. I, on the other hand, kept my eyes on the prize. I finally came to the conclusion that I wanted to improve myself and that I should be stronger.

My diet, along with my new training plan, changed. I was suddenly taking in protein and carbohydrates more than my usual lighter meals. Magdalena was all for improving me that she would put second helpings on my plate even if I'm already going to explode.

Getting weight was so much easier than losing them, Cato was having a hard time with his own diet. He had complained about it last Thursday and he went back to his old regimen, his training wasn't going to change though. He was getting more brain exercise than muscular ones. Spade was determined to have us good in all the skills possible.

When I managed to go downstairs, I heard sounds. My ears perked up in slight confusion, the house was normally quiet, so I walked around the house until I found where it came from. "No training today?" Was Magdalena's morning greeting to me. She was seated comfortably in a sofa in front of our tv, which was showing reruns of the previous Hunger Games. "Join me."

I said nothing and sat down beside Magdalena, my eyes transfixed on the screen. The Games showed a girl, who looked so much like me, and as though a bell rang in my head, I whipped my head towards my mother.

This was her Games.

"It's just starting." Magdalena took the wine glass from the table beside her, "Focus."Her eyes were on the tv too, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

That year's was focused on Magdalena, who apparently was the leader of the Career Pack. They were in a peculiar arena, an abandoned town with tall buildings, roads and cars. The Careers wiped out about half in the bloodbath, they were on offensive frenzy. What caught my eye though was Magdalena's district partner - he seemed so familiar to me. His eyes was so familiar that I was raking my brain for a name of a person gone before I was even born.

_"Lena, he's such a drag, you know that. We're moving so slowly because of him. We have to let him go." District One whispered as they stood over the sleeping form of the boy from Two. The Career Pack agreed_ _silently, their eyes on their so-called leader. "You know what to do, don't you?"_

_ Magdalena's eyes narrowed, "He's not doing us any harm."_

_ "If you're not doing it then we're taking you down with him. It's his life or yours. Both of yours. Two won't even have a chance for a winner." District Four sneered._

_ Two withdrew the curved blade she had from her vest, raised it up her head and thrust it in her District partner's chest. Magdalena repeated it again and again until his cannon boomed. "There." She said with a weak voice._

_ "Didn't think you had it in you." District One laughed, a cold one which sent shivers down every audience's spines, "Imagine killing off your twelve year old brother!"_

"Brother?" I repeated with pure disbelief. Magdalena killed her own brother?

Magdalena's expression was detached, "We were reaped together. Father had himself betray the Capitol, he was punished by having his children reaped for three consecutive years." She explained nonchalantly. "Magdalena and Arthur for year one, Cassandra for year two, and Sophia for year four." And she was the only one who survived.

That explains my Grandmother's off episodes. She had her children die in national tv; four went in and only one came back. If that happened to Grandmother, what more happened to my Grandfather who's, apparently, at fault.

"He killed himself, Clove." Magdalena shook her head. She stood up and turned the tv off. "Now you know."

"Why did you..."

Magdalena shrugged, "It was my life or his. I didn't have a choice."

I was repulsed by her words. Of course she had a choice! She could have died along with him if she had any dignity at all. I wouldn't have killed off my brother if given the chance. Unconsciously, I stood up and walked away.

Magdalena wasn't a hero. She was a murderer. Suddenly, living here doesn't seem so right anymore. I had to go away.

I had to...

My pace went faster, I changed from walking to running in a matter of seconds. My heart was pounding so wildly in my chest. My hands shook with a feeling I never felt before. Truth hit me right in the face. The Games suddenly doesn't seem so wonderful to me unlike before. It was a punishment where children are forced to kill each other and I...

I...

I will be forced to do the same.

I will be a murderer like Magdalena.

"Clove?" I kept running even though I heard someone call me. I ran. I continued running and the voice kept on calling, "Clove!"

When I stopped, I was standing by the edge of a meadow, which was overlooking a mountain which before, was used for quarrying. I struggled to catch my breath, sweat from my forehead running down and mixing with my tears. I balled my hands into fists and screamed so loudly that birds flew away from the trees they had perched on.

"What the hell is wrong with your sanity now?" Cato's drawling tone came behind me.

No matter how much I wanted to insult him, I couldn't. I wasn't in the mood to see anybody. "Leave now, Cato. Leave me alone."

"You can tell me." He said softly.

I whipped my head angrily towards him, "Why the hell would I even do that?" My tears caught him off-guard. He probably wasn't expecting me to show emotions around him, I didn't expect it too. "Why do you care?"

Cato stared at me then leaned on the lone tree near me, "We're all we have soon so better start getting comfortable." He shrugged then raised an eyebrow, gesturing for me to continue. I walk towards him, not breaking our eye contact. He moved slightly, as though waiting for me to attack him. I don't. Instead, I tell him everything.

"And now," I sobbed. My forehead was on the tree bark, and my fist hitting it almost routinely for about the past hour. "I don't think I want to go in the Games." I say this in a whisper, "I don't want to kill anyone."

"Didn't you say you want your freedom?" Cato interrupted me, "Then go. You don't have family in the Games, you can go into a killing spree without worrying about touching anyone who really matters to you." He shoved his hands in his pockets, "I never expected this from you."

I lifted my head from the tree, "You think I don't feel?"

"Not that." Cato frowned deeply, "Worrying about killing. I expected you to cry before, and although I never see you do so, I know you cry. You're a girl." He sighed, "I didn't think you'd worry about being a _murderer._"

"Oh and you don't? You think it'll be easy killing people?" Tears ran down again. God. I'm so emotional right now that I don't even try and stop it.

Cato shook his head, "I never said it would be easy. It's just, when you have to, you will." He slid down the bark and crossed his legs, "I need to do this, Clove. I don't want to go because I'm struggling to get away from my parents, no. I'm doing this so I stay with them, longer and," He bit his lower lip and groaned. "Easier."

"What?"

"You're lucky, you know. You live an easy life. all you need to do is to train." He started off his story, "I..." Cato paused, his eyes on the sky, "I had been working ever since I can remember. I used to spend long hours in the factory." I shook my head, not knowing what it was so he explained, "It's where the stones from the quarry get shipped off to the Capitol. Ram saw me one day. He told me I had potential. I was strong and he said he'd helped me but in one condition."

I gasped, "You're on scholarship." Children, who were not well off, were usually under some kind of program where they were expected to train and excel. They will receive financial support from Victors, anonymous ones, according to the grades they receive from the trainers. They were provided for, given enough for a month to get by. I know a few trainees who were this program, there were a lot of them who withdrew due to the intensity of practice they went under.

"Basically." Cato shrugged his shoulders. "I trained harder than anyone I know, probably even more than you ever did. I jumped from weapon to another, when I know how to handle them, I moved to another. For a few years, the support wasn't enough. I wasn't good enough for the trainers, so I wasn't good enough for money." He paused to breathe deeply, "There were times that I wouldn't eat just so my siblings would have enough."

His expression went from thoughtful to angry, "That's why I wanted to beat you so badly. I received a list of trainees I had to beat, each one corresponds to an amount." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "You were on the top."

"My mother's your benefactor." I realized. No one would test me like that. Not Lyme. Or Brutus. Or even Enobaria. Just Magdalena.

"Does it matter?" He turned to me. After what I told him, I was already having some deep-rooted anger towards her anyway. It wouldn't change a damn thing. "Now that I have a chance to be Victor, I'll be able to give my family an easy life."

I understood now. I understood why he was also so open about the thought of me being an ally after Spade's plan. If he has me as an instant ally, he'd have a much bigger chance of winning. Or even if it wouldn't be him, his family would be secure for a year.

"Cato," I spoke, wiping my tears with the back of my hand, "We'll give them a good show, won't we?" My eyes met his. For a moment, I thought he'd think my plan is stupid.

His lips slowly turned to a grin, "We'll give them a finale they will never forget, Clove" That day, we formed an alliance.

A real one.


	5. The Choice

**Chapter 5:**

**The Choice**

We were ruthless.

That was our angle, Spade said during week two. He said he wasn't going to give any chances of having us not be feared by fellow tribute and not be desired by the Capitol. "Those tributes should be trembling at the mere mention of your name." Spade told us while we rested. "The Capitol loves winners. You will be desired and you will have any help you can get in that arena." We didn't have to work on being merciless tributes, by scrunching both our faces, we can manage to look the kind who'll kill you with our bare hands.

There was something in us - the part which knew each other's deep secrets - which knew we weren't ruthless at all. I was in search of my own life and Cato was doing it for his love for his family. Our trust in each other, as we spent time training, grew stronger every day. We will survive till the end then we will fight until our last breath for the finals. It will be a battle of how stronger you want to get your dream.

Suddenly, I realized that I was aware of Cato. I never was interested about anyone before but him and his story - his life drew me in. He seemed much more human to me now than just someone I pass through the hallway of the Center. He was real. There was something about his realness which got me hooked and it was dangerous. His vulnerability was too tangible now, and his weakness seemed clearer. The old Clove would've easily found words to haunt Cato till we get to the Games but now, I couldn't bring myself to do it. He poured so much to me and I did the same to him.

It was as though we were bare naked in front of each other. There was no more pretenses, no more lies and no more falsities. I trusted Cato Byrnes. He trusted me. And even though we would never admit it, we crossed an unspoken line. We crossed the line separating allies to friends.

Friends... I liked the word but I know I shouldn't.

"Clove," Calla laid a hand on my shoulder. I wake up from my reverie and realized that I had been standing, staring, at my moving targets for a while now. My trainer took a knife from my table nearby and thrust it in my hands, "Train. Focus. You have less than two weeks. We won't take any chances."

I nodded awkwardly, the fear of the trainers finding out that I had gone soft was pounding in my head. I should be ruthless. Friendship ties should be severed right before the Games. Care is a dangerous thing to bring inside that arena, it can kill. The feeling of having one person you can trust, however, made me unable to tell myself to remove it from my system. I never thought I'd have a friend, much less thought it would be Cato. I wonder if he's thinking the same thing too.

Swiftly, I moved my body to hit targets. My knives hit marks with a loud _thud. _Just for practice, I placed an imaginary head on one of the dummies I haven't hit yet. _Cato._ I raised my knife arm, poised to strike and hesitated.

What the hell? I never hesitate. What difference did it make when he was the one I should injure or even kill?

I closed my eyes and threw my knife. When I opened them, I frowned. The knife was off the target, it hit the dummy's leg. It was not fatal. It couldn't kill. I let out a frustrated wail and ran my hands through my hair. I never miss and he is ruining everything.

"Wow." I heard someone give out a low whistle behind me, "Clove Holt misses bull's eye."

"Shut the fuck up, Cato. Move your arse away from here and dump it in your station." I snapped without looking at him.

There was silence and I thought he had already left but apparently, he was still there. "You have a problem?" No. I don't have a problem. I don't need you to listen to anything I say. I don't need you to understand. I don't need you to tell me about yours. I don't need myself to care. I don't need you, Cato Byrnes.

"I'm..." Why couldn't I tell him? "I'm fine. Just distracted."

He let out a barely audible sigh, "Spade said we can go now. He said I should stop you for today, he doesn't need you to miss training tomorrow." When I turned to him, he had his bag slung over his shoulder. I stare at him for a moment before taking my knife pack and nodding. "What's up?" He asked as we walked out of the Center.

"Nothing."

"I don't want you to be distracted in the Games, Clove, you know that. So why don't you just break your stupid walls down and tell me what the hell is your problem. I don't need an ally who can't even throw straight." Cato growled. He stopped in his tracks and so did I. "We have to be winners and we can't do that when you don't even tell me your damn problem."

I shook my head, "We can't trust each other too much, Cato."

"Why the hell not? We're allies, aren't we? You have my back and I have yours. It will be hard doing this without trusting. I don't think I can sleep a wink at night in that arena, worrying if you'd kill me by the second day to take over the pack." He reasoned out.

"Sure. We need to trust each other but what happens in the end, huh Cato? What happens in the end when it comes down to just us?" I asked him, "What happens to that thing... that trust huh?"

Cato shook his head, unable to fully understand what was going in my head. "Then we trust each other to give it all we got."

"Now that you know my story, my purpose... would you be willing to take my life then, Cato?"

"That's not the point, Clove." He let out a breath, "The point is..."

"I can't continue caring about you, Cato." I admitted. "I'm afraid its irreversible now. I do care now, you arse. I don't want to continue knowing things about you that will make it hard for me to even make a cut on you."

He looked a bit stunned, "Clove..." Cato closed his eyes and shook his head before massaging the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and his thumb. "Everything between us now, this friendship, will dissolve in the arena, okay?"

What?

"I don't want you to think we'd be friends forever. We're developing trust to strengthen our alliance and it's our job as tributes to know when to stop ourselves so as to not endanger even our goals." Cato opened his blue eyes and looked at me, "Think of it as an expiration date."

"An expiration date?" I can't believe this. Is he seriously saying this? "Fine. Fine. Don't expect me to be in that alliance long enough, Cato. My expiration date in that alliance is much different than yours." I moved away from him before he could say anything else.

Maybe he was trained for this. Maybe that's why it was so easy for him to be friendly then deadly the next. He has trained to see friends as disposable people when in battle stance. Maybe he was trained to do that but not me. I was trained never to trust anyone and when I do, I get myself into a heap of trouble.

Magdalena is right.

In the end, it'll be my life or his.

Enobaria and Brutus arrived in the Career Center by the afternoon of week two. They watched us train in our favored stations then made us jump from one skill to another; Enobaria made me go through the obstacle course and the camouflage station with ease. Brutus made Cato show his strength and obviously he was pleased by him. The Victors were our mentors for this year, they will be handling our training in the Capitol then provide us with sponsors.

"What's your plan, Clove?" Enobaria led my away from earshot. She casually pulled me to the untouched edible plant station - where although thought as useful, nobody wanted to train in somewhere so lame. We didn't need to know about this. Careers always have the most supplies anyway.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "Aren't you supposed to be telling me what I should do?"

Enobaria looked at me, "Spade told me you agreed in an alliance with Cato Byrnes. I don't know you that much but I seem to recall that Magdalena taught you to work alone." She smiled when my expression confirmed her thoughts, "What are you planning?"

"I plan to use Cato's strength to help me."

My mentor nodded thoughtfully, "He is replaceable." Enobaria ran her long fingers through my hair, which was tied in a high ponytail. "I want you to wear your hair down, Clove." She looked at me, conveying a message from her words. "Wear your hair down and make him trust you so bad that he won't even get the idea of killing you in that arena."

What does she mean by that?

Enobaria shook her head when I looked at her quizzically, "Clove, make him fall head over heels for you." She clarified.

"What?" I scoffed, "Love has no place in the Games."

"Indeed. Love and Cato has no place in the Games." Enobaria agreed, "That's why you have to use the most powerful weapon you have. Love will guarantee that you will not be harmed when you're around him. I'm sure if he's crazy about you, Cato won't let anyone lay a finger on you." She twisted the end of my hair with her fingers, "Then you can kill him like I did with mine in the end."

I was still confused so Enobaria explained in a low voice, "Why do you think I managed to get my district partner trust me so much to get him to the finale?" Enobaria's Games were impressive. The District Two alliance was strong that year and they managed to kill off half of the tributes by day two. Due to the pack, Enobaria and her partner remained unscathed until Enobaria decided to break off her alliance with the Careers by killing them one by one in their sleep, including her own district partner. She then went on a hunt for the last living tribute and without any weapon in hand, Enobaria ripped the poor tribute's neck with her bare teeth.

I had no idea that she was also playing her own games in her District partner's head.

"Only one will come out, Clove, make sure that it's you." Was Enobaria's last words to me. She returned to Brutus' side, occasionally talking to our two Trainers. She then conversed with Cato, throwing in a smile or two in their conversation.

Love? I had to laugh at the word. I have never experienced loving someone so I was basically new to the thought. I was still angry at Cato that day - his words stung me so badly that I couldn't even think of forgiving him. My anger provided only good things, I can finally think of ways to kill him. I can finally plot my revenge against him. I trusted him about the facet of myself that nobody else gets to know, only to have him say that our friendship had an expiration date.

A freaking expiration date!

With a smirk, I decided, _Let me put on expiration date on your life, Cato Byrnes._


	6. The Plan

**Chapter 6**

**The Plan**

Due to being neighbors with Enobaria, I had ample time to talk to her. She was a consistent guest in our house, much to Magdalena's pleasure. Even though she was not very fond of Enobaria, my mother said that I finally developed the interest to win. I never spent so much time with anyone outside the family like this before and somehow, with my determination for revenge, I hung into Enobaria's words. Aside from planning about my strategy for winning, I had my mentor tell me all about the Capitol and what her work there was. She told me stories about the certain charm of our main city. She said there is a never-ending party there and that Victors, like her, were made the guests-of-honor.

"What about your work there?" I asked Enobaria, leaning forward and meeting her dark eyes. I notice her slight discomfort and I wondered if her job was something to be embarrassed about. "You always disappear. You'd leave for a day or longer."

Enobaria's expression went angry, "You don't have to know. You're better off not knowing." She stood up from her seat inside our living room. I watched as Enobaria approach the big window, she seemed to be gazing at something much more interesting than our conversation now. She went silent for a moment, probably still contemplating on whether to answer my question or not. "Back to topic," Enobaria said finally, "What do you plan about Cato now? He looks deadly; he's strong and talented. He'll be a threat to you if you don't take advantage of what you have now."

"I don't know." I told Enobaria, "I don't know how to make him like me. We don't trust each other."

"He'll have to like you." Her words were firm that I know I had no other choice. "That boy is a threat and we will make it stay that way but not to you. He should be weak for you but a deadly adversary to everyone else." Enobaria faced me again, a smirk playing on her lips. "Make him want to protect you. Play the Johanna card for him."

I raised an eyebrow, "Johanna card?"

Enobaria shrugged at my confusion, as though I should know this already, "She's the Victor who played weak then showed her true side when the arena came down to a handful of players." She walked forward slowly, "Play weak for Cato. No man can resist a damsel in distress, especially not someone as dominant as him."

"I will not play weak for anybody." I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest, "And I certainly don't want to play weak for someone like Cato. He'd look down on me and that's not something I want. I want him to see me as an equal or probably even a superior."

That was the line I would never cross. I, Clove Holt, no matter how small I was compared to any other trainee in the Center, is strong. I wasn't the one to be reckoned with. I was the ideal tribute for someone who valued stealth and speed rather than brawns alone. Being weak for someone like Cato, whom I have loathed for his power, was not going to happen.

"Do you want to win or not?"

Her question conjured an instant response for me, "Of course!"

Enobaria flashed her fangs at me and I shuddered, "Then do it." She leaned forward, "All is fair in love and war. And Clove baby, this is war."

I don't know how but Enobaria managed to convince me to do it. It'll be hard, I thought, I haven't been talking to Cato for almost a week now and he'll think I'm trying to pull something on him if I talk to him today. As I walked towards the Center, I polished the plan I managed to piece together and the excuses I cooked up just this morning.

Cato was outside, leaning on the door with his arms crossed. He was so early that he arrived before our Trainers do. He looked deep in thought, his pale eyebrows knitted closely together. He then lifted himself from the door and opened his bag which was resting on the ground. He pulled out a notebook then began scribbling away, his face finally softening as he wrote. It was a strange sight, I never saw him mellow out like this. Maybe I was wrong about him again...maybe he wasn't brutal.

Slowly, I went to him but not saying anything. He stopped writing when I arrived but didn't speak, he just continued, as though I wasn't even there. My eyes continue watching him for awhile. I smiled weakly when I saw his hand - he was left handed. I don't know what it had to do with anything but I just appreciated the thought of knowing it.

"Stop staring." He growled softly. He still didn't look up from his notes.

"What's that stupid thing?" I asked, one of my eyebrows raised.

Cato looked up, a frown across his features. He capped his pen and together with the notebook, threw them in his bag. He leaned back on the wall, "Did I do something right to make you decide that you wanted to talk to me again?" He said this in a very bitter tone that I wouldn't be surprised if he punches me.

"Nothing, I'm just bored." I lied.

"Awesome. The great Clove is talking to me because she's bored." Cato mocked me, obviously angry now.

I frowned, "Why are you the one angry, Byrnes? You were the one who said our _friendship_ had an expiration date." I looked away, searching District Two for an interesting thing to lay my eyes on.

"God, are you that stupid? Of course we have to limit _this_." He gestured at our position on the ground, we were arguing but we sat so close together. "_This _is going to distract us in the Games and I don't want that. I told you that I need you to have a clear head. I don't want you to kill yourself off before the finale." His cheeks were red but Cato was trying not to explode. He was known for his temper, why wasn't it showing now? "We are going to give them a good show until the end."

"Trusting will always lead to caring, Cato."

Cato sighed softly, "I never said I didn't care about you too, stupid." He finally looked away, "I just said this friendship will dissolve in the arena." I was surprised with his words. Did he really say he cared for me too? "We are ruthless fighters from Two. If the other tributes find out that we care about each other, they'd pick on our weaknesses then all of our life's works will go down the drain. I can't have that." I didn't speak, I just let him go on. "Everything won't matter when you're faced with the choice between life and death."

Even family?

"When we're in that arena, you will not care if I told you my life's story. I don't think I'd even remember anything about District Two when I'm running for my life or defending myself from potential death threats." Cato said, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. And it was. For us, I mean. "Just enjoy the moment, Clove. Isn't it possible for you to accept anything considered normal?" He gave me a weirded out look but I was almost glad when he did - it meant he wasn't angry with me anymore.

"It depends on what normal is."

I can't do it. Whatever Enobaria put in my head was already erased and forgotten. I will not be able to do something as low like that to Cato. If it was any other person - any other stupid person in this district I don't care about - I would but this is different. Cato Byrnes actually meant something to me and even though I don't have any names for it right now, I know he's important.

Cato just smiled, "You're not normal. You're not capable of any kind of human interaction." He laughed aloud, pure mirth in his face. "You are so different from the other girls I know. Most of them would just start telling me things about them, expecting me to be impressed." I knew this, of course, he's quite the popular one. "But you don't do that."

"I don't need you to be impressed. I don't need anyone to be impressed." I shook my head, a few strands of my dark hair fell in front of my face. I was about to tuck them behind an ear when Cato reached out and did it for me, "I like doing things for me, not for anyone." This was another lie. I do things to impress the only person who made her opinion matter to me.

Magdalena.

He didn't comment on it any further so I took the opportunity to ask him questions, "How does it feel to be big?"

Apparently he thought it was funny because he just started laughing again, "Well," When he finally stopped, Cato's lips were twisted into an amused smile, "I like being big. It makes me feel dominant and in control. Powerful. It's as though nothing can touch me, nothing can take me down." He smiled at his own words, "How do you feel about being small?"

"Fuck, Cato, when are you going to stop taunting me?" I punched him in the arm. His eyes were crinkling in the side, out of delight.

"You're just so easy to poke fun of." He chuckled, "But no, really. How does it feel?"

I shook my head but thought about his question. How do I feel about it? "I dunno." I stretched my legs on the ground and leaned on the wall, "It depends. I like it when I can slip through people's grasps. I like it that it gives me speed. I hate it when big people like you beat me up. I hate it that I have to carry a knife pack to have people intimidated. I hate it that people underestimate me." My list went on and on but I knew I had to stop. So I did. "I hate it."

His eyes were on me all the while and he didn't turn away, "You hate it that much, huh?" As a reply, I just shrugged, telling him that it didn't matter now. "Don't. I mean, there are Victors who won because of their height."

"Oh yeah? Who?" I raised an eyebrow.

"There's uhhh," Cato was silent for the longest time before he managed to give me an answer, "Annie Cresta?"

I laughed, "Annie Cresta hid in most of her Games, she won by sheer dumb luck." I particularly hated that year. Imagine a Victor who went mentally insane after seeing her district partner get beheaded then winning just because she was the only swimmer in the bunch. "Her year is probably worse than that year with the ice."

"Alright, maybe giving her as an example isn't a good one." Cato joined in with my amusement, "There's that girl from District 6."

My nose scrunched up as I remembered the detail he left out, "Morphling addict." It was obvious that he couldn't think of any more and I just didn't care. Small tributes last long enough but mostly, they die under the hands of bigger ones. "Let's just face it, Cato, no one below 5'5" has ever won the Games." It was a close call though, I was about 5'4".

Cato shook his head and pursed his lips, "I know one more. I can recall she was even smaller than you. 5'2", I think." I turned my eyes on him and waited for his answer, "Magdalena of District Two."

My eyes narrowed and I looked away. For the first time in the day, I scrambled up to my feet and brushed off dirt from my pants. Cato didn't say anything, he must've felt when he mentioned my mother, I was immediately upset.

It was a good thing Calla and Blank arrived just in time to break the awkward silence between us.


End file.
